The Untold Story-Season Two
by Tigra-Bengal
Summary: My continuation of Arisa's story in Teen Wolf. Once more I do not own Teen Wolf or its characters.


Chapter One: Omega

My blankets were warm. My bed was comfortable. I heard my door open.

"Hey kiddo," dad greeted, "You ready to go back to school?" A tear dripped from my eye.

It had been three weeks since Derek had ripped Peter's throat out. My chest felt frayed and my headache had never gone away. I hadn't been able to get out of bed. The loss had wrecked me. The idea of going to school made me flinch.

"Sweetheart," dad sighed. I felt him sit beside me and he gently pulled the blankets down. My room was dark but I could still see the destruction I had caused.

_I walked into the room feeling numb. I locked the door and turned to face my silent bedroom. I walked over to my closet and saw my reflection. My dress was matted with dirt and blood, Peter's blood. _

_ Glass shattered and I looked at my now bleeding knuckles. I moved towards my desk and threw my vase into the wall. I flung my pictures to the ground. I shoved my lamp off my nightstand along with my alarm clock. I tore the clothes from my closet and I ripped the dress as I tore it from my body. I threw it and my jewelry into the corner. I collapsed on my bed and burrowed under my covers. _

The room hadn't changed. There was still glass scattered across the ground. My clothes were thrown haphazardly around. I looked at my dad and I saw the pain in his eyes. I instantly felt bad. I was worrying my father.

"What happened?" he asked quietly. I shook my head and slowly sat up. I hadn't even changed my under things in a week.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to get up. You don't have to go to school. I'm just worried about you," dad told me.

"I know." My voice was raspy from not being used. I swallowed several times.

"I'll go to school," I told dad. I pushed off the rest of my blankets and stood up. I heard dad sigh before leaving.

I moved numbly as I grabbed some clothes and headed into the bathroom. I shut the door and started the shower. I glanced at my reflection as I moved past it and stopped for a moment.

The last time I had seen my reflection I had looked beautiful in my prom dress. Now my eyes were sunken and hollow. My cheeks were gaunt and there were dark circles under my eyes. I had lost weight which gave me an emaciated appearance. My hair was stringy and oily. I looked even paler than normal.

I stepped into the shower and washed out my hair. I cleaned off my skin. I stayed in there for a long time letting the hot water pour over my body.

I finally stepped out and dried off. I pulled on my jeans and sweater. The feeling of the fabric hurt my skin but I pushed it aside. I stepped out and went back to my room. I pulled on my converse and let my hair hang in my face as I headed downstairs. Stiles was waiting for me. I saw his worried glance towards dad but I didn't say anything.

He drove me to school and I got out before Stiles could say anything. I didn't want to talk about it, especially with him. I walked into school and headed for my locker. I put my books inside.

"Arisa," I turned at the sound of my dance teacher's voice. Mrs. Hanson stopped next to me.

"Why haven't you been in?" she demanded. I sighed and shut my locker.

"I'm not dancing anymore Mrs. Hanson," I told her. Her mouth fell open.

"Arisa, you're the best dancer we have. You can't just quit. You have such amazing talent you could go on to any number of dance schools," she exclaimed.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Hanson," I mumbled skirting around her. I walked into Economics with Coach Finstock and sat down in the front where I would be away from Scott and Stiles. I opened my notebook and made sure my pen worked. Coach started class and I wrote down all the boring notes.

"Alright, Greenburg come write the answers on the board," Coach ordered. We all waited for Greenburg to stumble up there. He started writing.

My vision suddenly blurred. I blinked and stared back down at my notes. I ended a sentence with a period then looked back up. The writing was going in a spiral. I blinked but it didn't change. Greenburg turned.

But it wasn't Greenburg. It was Peter. He smiled at me. I gasped and something hit the back of my head. I turned and saw Jackson sneering. I blinked a few times then turned back. Peter was gone. It was Greenburg again. I rubbed my eyes and pushed the tears back.

Peter was gone.

After school I walked home. I knew Stiles would probably go to the hospital to visit Lydia. The walk was long but it was nice to be alone. School today had been awful. Everything had grated against me. I felt fragile, like my skin had been scraped raw.

A car suddenly pulled up beside me. It was a black SUV. I felt my instincts kick. Chris opened the door and stepped out.

"Need a ride?" he asked.

"No thanks," I told him moving around him. Another SUV pulled up and more guys circled around me.

"I'd really like it if you came with me," Chris said.

"Is there a reason you're trying to intimidate a teenage girl to get into your car or did you just save all your creepiness for me?" I said bitterly. He smirked.

"Get into the car Miss Ravencroft." I felt buzzing start across my skin. Deaton's voice came into my head.

_"It is about control. You control it Arisa. Not the other way around." _

"I dare you to make me," I replied my voice steely. Chris moved towards me and I let sparks flicker between my fingers. He stopped as I lifted my hand.

"Stay away from me," I ordered. The sparks erupted into a full flame that had all of them backing up. I moved through them making sure they kept backing away. I didn't let go of the fire until I was out of eyesight.

I let the flames die and stared at my hand. My control had definitely improved.

After I had spent the first few days crying about Peter I went to Deaton. Scott had told me that he knew all about werewolves. I figured he might know what was going on with me.

I was a witch. My power had manifested because of the unusual circumstances that I had been thrust into. Every night I had gone to the animal clinic and he had taught me basic control over my gifts. I had an aptitude for fire and defensive spells. I had grown a lot in these past three weeks.

I clenched my hand into a fist. Deaton hadn't just taught me how to use my power. He had taught me why. I couldn't use magic like this to hurt people unless it was self-defense. This was energy, pure creation, used to defend and as a source of knowledge. It was a gift and a privilege.

I hadn't told Stiles yet. I didn't want him to have to deal with anymore supernatural crap. I could handle this myself.


End file.
